A Soft Chuckle
by postages
Summary: [Tezuka and Fuji] The most unnoticable things change lives.


Author's Notes: It's been a while since I last posted and wrote a fic. My first Tezuka and Fuji fic, actually. Hope you'll all like this.

To me nee-chan, thanks for telling me I could do this fic when I was kinda losing myself while writing this. Also, my special thanks to Tezuka Kunimitsu's Yokogao. That was the song that was playing in my mind while I was writing this.

Disclaimers: Tennis no Oujisama isn't mine. Nope. Won't ever be.

**A Soft Chuckle**

It was a busy day. There was an unusually large number of people in the Tezuka residence. It did not surprise the young Tezuka, though, as he knew that the events that have taken place some three hours ago would lead to this.

"My condolences, Tezuka-kun."

"That's too bad. They were good people."

"I can't believe that they–"

The young lad bowed to his visitors and gave a curt nod to his teammates who came to share his sorrow. He muttered a quick thanks to Oishi and bid the rest goodbye as he led them to the exit.

And now, he was alone in a place he called "home".

He suddenly wondered, how could the structure be a home when he was alone?

Yes. He was alone now. And he knew it was torture.

No. It was more than torture. His knees were shaking. His head was swirling. His heart was being pierced by an invisible force and grief flooded him.

He slowly walked to the pond, a place where he usually spent time with his relatives. He could feel his grandfather's presence, fishing beside him. He could see his mother emerging from the door, his father smiling ever-so-slightly as the said lady entered the place.

A tear drop slid down his cheek.

He remembered how his grandfather taught him how to fish. He remembered his father accompanying him to school on his first day. He remembered his mother welcoming him home with open arms, a balloon in her hand to cheer up the young Tezuka.

He remembered all these happy memories.

He wished that he could return to those days when they would just sit and do those things. He wished that they could go back to the way they once were.

But they wouldn't. They couldn't.

He was supposed to be with them on the trip to Paris, but they said it would be better for him to stay. And baka him, he followed.

Tezuka's only relatives that were left living were now dead, leaving him alone.

Alone.

If only he told them earlier how much they meant to him, if only he was able to show how much he loved them, then maybe, just maybe, things would not have turned out like this.

But he wasn't able to do so. He wouldn't be able to do it anymore.

They're gone. Everyone was gone.

Everything shattered in front of him, his dreams, his hopes, his family.

Himself.

"Tezuka."

He turned around and met a pair of cerulean orbs.

"Omae… Did you come to pay your condolences?" he said as he brushed away the tears that were forming in the corner of his eyes. The hazel-haired lad nodded, a smile on his face. Tezuka's eyesight was failing him. When did the tensai arrive? And he was smiling to boot.

"Ariga–"

"You could let it out, you know."

His eyes widened for a few moments. _How did Fuji know?_, he thought. He wanted to say, "Tezukas don't cry." He wanted to tell Fuji not to meddle with his affairs.

He wanted to tell Fuji he could not make the buchou follow well in fact the tensai could.

But somehow, he wanted to just cry and be a fourteen-year-old, even just for once.

Pearls cascaded slowly down his cheeks. All of a sudden, warmth filled him, and he found himself being enveloped by a pair of strong arms. He no longer cared if he was crying or if he looked stupid. Fuji was there. He was there.

Fuji could understand. He'd always understand.

"Life is a bitter game. We all lose. No one triumphs. We all know that. So let it out now. You can't keep it in there forever," Fuji paused for a while and continued, "You're not alone, Tezuka. Don't ever think that you're alone. There are more than a hundred people who long to be graced by your warmth, your indescribable radiance.

"We all want to experience your warmth, Tezuka.

"You aren't alone.

"A lot of people are here. They're here for you.

"I'm here."

_"We all want to experience your warmth, Tezuka._

_"You aren't alone._

_"A lot of people are here. They're here for you._

_"I'm here."_

How could he not be alone? His relatives were gone. The people who understood him were gone. The people he treasured the most were gone.

Yet, he thought, his second family has always been there. He just didn't see it. He shut his eyes the moment he found out his relatives were gone. They were there. They have always been, though at times they were scared of the buchou.

But, the point was, they never left him.

Yes. Indeed, he was not alone.

They remained like that for a few moments, Fuji embracing him while the latter poured everything out. After a few seconds, he raised his head, took off his glasses, and opened his mouth to speak. And then he heard Fuji chuckle, so soft, almost inaudible, but still present, just like how Fuji remained by his side, quite unnoticed but still existent.

_"We all want to experience your warmth, Tezuka._

_"You aren't alone._

_"A lot of people are here. They're here for you._

_"I'm here."_

Fuji was right. There were a lot of people who cared about him. He just never stopped to acknowledge them. And he decided, he won't make that same mistake again. He did not want to regret anything again. Once was enough.

"Fuji," he paused for a while and continued, "Thank you for letting me know that I'm not alone. Thank you for just standing by me. Thank you for–"

He stopped short as replaced his glasses.

"Fuji?"

Slowly, a petal of wisteria descended on his palm.

The television opened and it was on the news channel. Tezuka's eyes flitted to the television, the sudden opening of the said object catching his attention.

"Along with the thirty others that were found earlier, five bodies have just been found and identified. They are the following people. Fuji Seki, Fuji Yoshiko, Fuji Yumiko, Fuji Yuuta and…" The reporter scanned the papers he had in his hand.

"… Fuji Syusuke."

Tezuka glanced at the petal on his palm.

And somehow, from nowhere, he heard a soft chuckle, one that seemed to encourage and to tease at the same time, one that gave happiness to everyone.

One that seemed to make him stand.

One that seemed to make him go on.

Fuji.

-- owari --

21 October 2004

9:53p


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